Pip Boy
by Dan the Zombie
Summary: Before the bombs drop in 2077, a Vault-Tec employee finds herself without a safe haven. She finds that she is willing to do horrible things to find a place in a vault, but finds out that she may have been better off in the wastes...
1. Chapter 1 December 2075

**Pip Boy**

Written by Dan Pickens

Based upon the _Fallout_ Series by Interplay

**Chapter One. 2075.**

Tinny music radiated from the television set as it played an advertisement for the latest brand of car from Chryslus. Janine leaned out from her work in the kitchen and looked at the TV. An advertisement came on for RobCo's latest innovation: the Mr. Handy robot. Only as much as the Chryslus car had been in the previous commercial! What a joke.

Janine went back to fiddling with the device on the counter in front of her. It was brand new, chromium-plated and frustratingly impossible to figure out. You had to hand it to RobCo, when they set out to make your life easier by adding technology it only made things worse. She was trying to pick up the local radio station on her brand new Pip Boy, but it was failing to work exactly as she had hoped.

The news came on the television, a report about U.S.-Controlled Canada. Janine peeked again to see Army men in hulking powered armor shooting a Canadian communist repeatedly in the head. The image cut away to an advertisement for war bonds, and then a map of Alaska demonstrating the invasion plans.

The Pip Boy in front of her beeped, and static emitted from its tiny speaker. Its screen displayed a graph with a bar vibrating minimally in the middle, and a frequency of 640.1. Janine looked at it, annoyance crossing her face. The TV went to commercial in the next room.

Carefully, Janine rotated the dial until the Pip Boy's readout said 648.08. The Vault-Tec news came on, as she had planned, and she smiled as her words came through the small speaker on the Pip Boy in the voice of Vault-Tec's handsome spokesperson, Troy Weathers. She picked up the Pip Boy and fitted it around her left wrist, and then switched the radio off.

She went into the living room and switched off the television set, and at that point noticed that she had neglected the mess that had been made when she had had company the previous evening. She had been pitching the idea of being an Overseer in one of the hundred Vault-Tec vaults to a nice young couple from Los Angeles who Vault-Tec had flown out to New York just for the visit. The couple seemed excited, and agreed, and they signed the paperwork for Vault 13 that night. The paperwork was still on the coffee table, along with two half-full mugs of coffee and a half-empty bottle of whiskey next to a shot glass.

She decided it was time to clean up the mess, but ended up sitting down on the sofa and pouring the shot glass full of whiskey. She looked at it for a moment, then toasted her employers silently before tossing it back.

* * *

Later that day, Janine was walking into Vault-Tec's corporate headquarters in Manhattan. She noted that several other of the big-leaguers in the company had the RobCo Pip Boy on their wrists, sunlight glinting off the chromium plating through the large glass windows of Corporate HQ. She felt proud, a major part of the company, to be included in the test of RobCo's new technology, no matter how infuriating it could be.

"Janine Smithers! How good it is to see you!" Leon Quinn, Vault-Tec's finance spokesman, crowed as Janine walked across the lobby.

"Mr. Quinn," remarked Janine, remaining icily professional. Quinn had a tendency to womanize, and Janine wanted no part of it. "Good morning."

"I missed you at the Christmas party last week," lied Quinn. He had been roaring drunk and, despite finding the company of two other women that night, he had been watching Janine like a hawk the entire evening. Even now Janine could see that his eyes were on her breasts instead of her face.

"That's odd," said Janine, not even stopping to hold the conversation with him. "I was there the entire time. And besides, you seem to have found Brittany Lyon fairly accommodating so why would you have wanted my company?"

"Brittany Lyon is hardly comparison for you, Janine," Quinn said, jogging to keep up with Janine's pace. "Why won't you go out with me?"

"Because I don't like you, Mr. Quinn," Janine said, and she rounded on him. A look of utter shock crossed his face. "And I don't like your constant quips about me, and I don't care if you've got an in with Roger Stanley because I just got the contract signed for Vault 13 last night, making me the best saleswoman in this damn place."

Quinn just stood there. It was true, he went golfing with the human resource consultant, Roger Stanley, and had used his relationship to get a couple of women fired in the past who had crossed him. At this point, he seemed too shocked to really say anything to Janine.

She turned and walked away, and she heard him mutter something like "bitch" under his breath. No doubt she would get a call from Roger Stanley later on, but she didn't care.

When she reached her cubicle, she shut the small glass door and turned on her computer. Three intra-net messages showed up, two of which were congratulatory messages for signing Vault 13 and the third an advertisement for Mr. Handy.

Right, she thought. I'll get one of those as soon as they give me one for free. As she was going to delete the message, a new message popped up on the screen, from her boss. She opened it.

_"Miss Smithers,_

_Congratulations on the Vault 13 thing. We've got a bigger project for you, it's in DC. The Smithsonian wants to put a Vault-Tec exhibit in the Museum of Technology. You are to oversee the advertising division. All the paperwork will be in your box in twenty minutes, as well as the metro ticket you need to get there. If all goes well, Vault-Tec might find a new home in DC which would get us closer to the president and a full governmental endorsement. You're an integral cog, Smithers. Don't mess this up!_

_-Mister Crow"_

So she was going to the nation's capital. No doubt it would be overrun with foreign dignitaries still trying to pick up the pieces of the United Nations, which had finally fallen through just a couple months previously. Plenty of good customers, people who actually believed they needed to be saved. If she could land Vault-Tec contracts in other nations, maybe she could get promoted to head of Advertising. It was a possibility, and it seemed a good time.

This could only be good fortune!


	2. Chapter 2 March 2076

**Chapter Two. 2076.**

_"Miss Smithers,_

_You have done an excellent job with the Smithsonian project. We have been commissioned to construct twenty-two new vaults across the United States, adding even to your area. Please find the enclosed contracts for Vaults 101-115 in your Pip Boy, and proceed to sell them as quickly as possible. Remember to review the profiles attached and select prospective buyers based on those profiles. You are our top-seller on the East Coast for a reason!_

_-Mister Crow"_

It had been an eventful few months. The project with the Smithsonian had cost Vault-Tec nearly $200,000 but so far had sold out spots in almost every vault across the nation. With 22 new vaults to fill, it was important to locate new Overseers right away.

Janine opened up the profile for the first contract, Vault 101. Apparently, this vault needed leadership for extreme self-sufficiency. The oddity of the profiles had confused Janine at first, but ultimately she had decided that she didn't care anymore about why the vaults needed what they did. They paid for her new Chryslus Corvega, and that's all that mattered.

She would have to throw a party to start scanning potential buyers. She wanted to go back to New York for it, but no doubt she would get better results in Chicago. It was the only market she hadn't racketeered to yet, and as long as she never had to return to Los Angeles Janine figured it was no problem. Los Angeles already was a wasteland, it didn't need a bomb to drop on it! She had hated every day out in the hot summer, and not even a visit to the Chinese theatre had whetted her appetite for enjoyment.

She looked at her Pip Boy. It was twenty minutes past midnight. She poured herself a glass of whiskey but decided to just set it on the bedside table. If it was midnight already, she figured, that meant that tomorrow was her birthday. She felt old, and alone.

She slipped the Pip Boy off of her arm and set it next to the glass of whiskey. Her eyes hurt, and she rubbed them. She shot a tired look at the whiskey and decided it was better off within her. She drank it, and then sank back into the large down pillows on the hotel room bed.

She thought of Craig, her last boyfriend, and what might have been. She could picture having kids with him, even though she didn't really want kids. But what would happen when the bombs dropped? Would they find a home in a vault? Vault-Tec had built a few vaults for their own, but she didn't have a spot reserved in one of them; they were primarily for research personnel, and she hardly qualified.

Craig was an advertising guru, and if he hadn't been so career-driven she was sure he might have proposed. Not that she really believed in marriage, either, but it was funny how things like that seemed different with Craig. And yet, she didn't want a new Craig. She just wanted to know that she had a vault to crawl into before the shit hit the fan.

Before she knew it, her Pip Boy was beeping an early morning alarm through the painful headache that accompanied her hangover the next morning. She was vaguely aware that Galaxy News was playing somewhere, talking about the Army's advance into Alaska. She was in no mood for the war this morning.

Rather more clumsily than she expected to be, Janine crawled out of bed in the direction of the television. The light from the open curtains seemed blinding through her hangover, and she decided it was a profitable detour to try to shut the curtains.

Almost pulling the curtains off of the rod, she succeeded in blocking out the light. She was left alone with the light from her Pip Boy and the light from the TV set. Either way, it was still too much light, and she returned to her original objective of turning off the television.

Her Pip Boy beeped an alert behind her, and she scowled. Turning off the TV, she wandered back to her Pip Boy and opened the mail she just received. Her new personal assistant, Ellen, had bought her metro tickets to Atlanta, Georgia for some reason. Janine reached for the phone and dialed Ellen's number.

"What the hell is this?" asked Janine when Ellen answered the phone.

"Mister Crow called," Ellen said, sounding just as hung over as Janine felt. Janine smiled. She was teaching her assistant well. "He says there's going to be a springtime gala for the major technology companies in Atlanta and he wants you to be one of the faces of Vault-Tec there. So I bought you the tickets, you're all set to go this afternoon."

"Well then you're going to be my date," said Janine. "I'll be damned if I go to some gala unescorted. But don't think this is some kind of social thing for us. We're looking for buyers. When we have lunch I'll go over the new buyer profiles you should look for."

"New buyer profiles?" Ellen hadn't gotten the info on the new vaults, apparently. "I thought the vaults were full-up?"

"There are twenty-two new vaults popping up on the map, most of them in the District of Columbia," Janine explained. "And fifteen of them are mine. That's why he wants us at this gala. When it proves unsuccessful, because every major candidate in the South is already in a vault, we're going to Chicago and throwing a little shindig of our own. Capice?"

"Yeah, I'll see you later, Miss Smithers," said Ellen. "I'm going to get ready for the day."

"Sounds good," said Janine, and she hung up the phone no less hung over than she had started the conversation.

* * *

Janine sat down in the small café across from the Metro station and pulled up a menu. Out of the corner of her eye she could tell that a guy was looking at her. He was sitting at a table with his friend, and they were wearing casual clothes that were more suitable for college than the business world. The looker's friend turned to take a glance, and Janine shot them an icy look. The friend turned back around, and so she returned to her menu.

A moment later, the friend had showed up at her table.

"Mind if I have a seat?" he asked.

Before she could refuse, he sat down.

"Go ahead," she said flatly. "What can I do for you?"

The man looked nervous, but not in a way that put her off. He had a slight blush in his cheeks but his slightly sideways smile across his square face was cute. His eyes were light brown, and his hair was neat over his ears.

"I don't do this very often," he said. Janine held back a quip, inexplicably, she thought. "I haven't seen you around this part of town, and I was hoping we might have lunch."

Janine stared him down, keeping her face unreadable. He was clearly having a hard time of trying to figure her out. She, herself, was trying to decide whether or not she wanted to be in professional mode or not.

"I don't think so," she said finally. "I'm waiting for my personal assistant, and I have a train to catch in half an hour."

"Can't I even just get your name?" he asked.

"What good is a name without a number?" Janine answered.

"You look successful, and I've got some connections of my own," he said. "A name may be sufficient. I'm Brian, by the way. Brian Long."

Suddenly all she could think of was Craig. She had met him in college, of course, but Craig had that same attitude about his connections.

Brian looked past Janine, and smiled. Janine turned around to see that Ellen had just walked up, and she looked unsure about joining the pair at the table.

"Well," said Brian to Janine, "I'll just get out of your way. Look me up at RobCo, huh?"

Brian took a card out of his jacket pocket and threw it on the table. Janine was unaware that it had turned into a business meeting.

"Janine Smithers," was all she said, and Brian left.

Ellen came around and sat down where Brian had been sitting. She reached for the business card he had left. "Who was that?"

"Brian something," said Janine, taking a long drink from her coffee. "He tried to hit on me, and then you showed up…"

"Oh, I'm sorry if I interrupted," Ellen said, putting the card back on the table. Janine snatched it up.

"Why didn't you show up sooner?" she snapped, and put the business card in her wallet. "I could have been spared that embarrassing situation."

"Honestly, Miss Smithers, I've never seen you so lost for words as you were for that guy," Ellen said. "Every other time some horn dog has come a-knocking you just trash him."

"So what? Now I'm an ice queen?" Janine glared daggers at Ellen. "I can't have a positive relationship with a cute guy?"

"Why are you getting so defensive?" Ellen asked. "There's no need to be all pissy about it. Sheesh."

"Whatever," Janine said, and went back to her coffee.

A few moments passed in which Ellen shuffled through some paperwork she had brought with her and Janine just drank her coffee.

"We'll probably see him in Atlanta," said Janine. "If he's worth anything to RobCo, that is."


	3. Chapter 3 March 2076

Chapter Three. 2076.

Ellen meandered about the dresses, and ogled a cute purse with a bird stitched onto the side. Somewhere in the dressing rooms, Janine was putting on the seventh or eighth dress she had tried on today in her endless quest for the perfect thing to wear to the gala, which she insisted was a waste of time anyways.

Ellen looked at the chromium Pip Boy she had just put on her right wrist that morning when Janine had given it to her. RobCo had published a brand-new Pip Boy 2000 and Vault-Tec decided to furnish its employees with the latest RobCo tech. She suspected that there was some serious ass-kissing going on, because RobCo's technology went hand-in-hand almost 50/50 in the vaults that had been built so far.

According to the clock, Janine had been in the dressing room for over a half an hour, and it was approximately one o'clock where Chris was in Los Angeles. She was waiting to hear back from him today to see if they'd made it into Vault 5 like they were hoping to.

A thick-bellied robot thunked by, patrolling slowly across the store for anyone who might be shoplifting or otherwise rule-breaking. She wondered just how good its scanners were.

She meandered over to the makeup counter and began to sample a new shade of blush. The quiet jet of a Mr. Handy robot alerted her and she looked up to see the floating ball approach her.

"Good evening, Miss," it said politely. "My name is Wolworth. Let me know if there's anything I can get for you."

"Do you have any water?" Ellen asked. Wolworth reached inside its carapace and filled up a bottle of purified water, extending a long mechanical tentacle to offer it to Ellen. Ellen took it, and turned away.

"Thank you," she said over her shoulder and went to the fitting rooms to try to find Janine.

* * *

Janine looked at the outfit, finally satisfied with the way it looked. She pulled the bottom of the blazer one more time to pull out the wrinkles and tried her damndest to look professional. Sexy but professional - the perfect salesperson. Janine smiled a devious smile, deciding that she had won. Then a thought wiped her smile off of her face. She hadn't tried the outfit on with the Pip Boy 2000.

The 2000 model was less attractive than the previous model, a simple metallic gray instead of the fancy chromium of last year's design. Its screen was bigger, however, and its mapping system more comprehensive. The 2000 model didn't need to be recharged for more than 30 years, an improvement on the previous model which needed a recharge every 10 years.

She decided she wouldn't take it with her to the gala. She could live without it and still look like a professional. And besides, it wasn't as if she was selling the Pip Boys.

After she changed, she found Ellen outside the dressing rooms playing with an empty bottle of water.

"Finally found the one you wanted, huh?" Ellen asked sardonically.

"I don't pay you for your sass," Janine remarked, looking at her choice draped across her arm.

"I know - it comes as a free bonus," said Ellen, taking the choice and moving to the register.

* * *

As soon as they arrived back at the hotel, Ellen approached the front desk. "Any messages?" she asked.

"Name?" the receptionist seemed bored out of his mind, young and unchallenged by daily life. A good candidate for the U.S. Army, if the President got his way about it. She wondered how this lad had thus far avoided the draft, and decided it wasn't any of her business.

"Ellen West, room 51b," she said.

The receptionist typed away at his computer, and it blipped and beeped at him.

"Yeah," he said. "Your husband called and said he got the response from Vault-Tec in the mail today. He says he's waiting for you to come home to open it, and to please call him back."

"Great!" Ellen said, a wide smile spanning her round face now. She was practically bouncing up and down in a way that Janine found a little embarrassing. "Thank you very much!"  
"What was all that about?" asked Janine as Ellen walked up.

"Chris just got us a spot in Vault 5," Ellen chirped. "He hasn't opened the notice up but I know that's what it means."

"Oh, Ellen," said Janine. "I don't think that's a good idea. You want to try to get into one of the employee vaults. I don't think the civilian vaults are as safe."

"I don't think we'll actually need it," Ellen said. "But it's nice to have, and it's in style to have a place reserved in a vault." This much, at least, was true. Especially since the Smithsonian exhibit, when Hollywood had started to fully back Vault-Tec's escapades. "If China were going to drop the bomb I'm sure they'd have done it by now."

Ellen didn't know much about the current political climate, other than that the reds were in China and the good guys were in Uncle Sam's good ol' United States of America. The Chinese were evil because they had invaded Alaska, and therefore it wouldn't be profitable for them to drop the bomb because they had the oil they wanted, at least for the time being. She didn't know what would happen when the US took Alaska back, but she suspected it couldn't be all that bad anyways.

Janine shook her head. She was a little more aware of modern politics, having gotten rather close to several senators while in DC. She decided it was just better to change the subject.

"Vault 5 is outside of San Diego, isn't it?" she asked.

"Sure is," Ellen said. "I'm going to be flying back out there after you get your vaults filled. Chris will be able to take care of us both then."

Janine was sickened by the idea of having to be taken care of by a man, but a small part of her yearned to have someone to go home to at the end of a long day at work. As far as she was concerned, there was no one man that could satisfy her needs. Craig was the only one to come close to filling that role, and now he was dating some Frenchwoman in Paris.

"Just promise me that you'll put in your application to get into an employee vault," said Janine. "Put it on your to-do list for tomorrow."

"What about you?" Ellen asked. "Don't you want into a vault?"

The word yes almost escaped her lips, but she lied. "No, I'm alright in life without finding a place in the vaults. Besides, you're right. The bombs probably won't drop for a good while yet."


	4. Chapter 4 April 2076

**Chapter Four. 2076.**

_"Maybe… you'll think… of me… when you… are all… alone,"_ crooned the singer on stage, as the light swing band swayed gently behind him. His voice was a high tenor, almost feminine, and it sounded a little odd over the microphone. The guests at the gala didn't seem to notice, though, and there were even a few slow dancing in front of the stage.

The gala itself was in a large hall in an upscale museum in Atlanta, and filled with waiters and waitresses who wanted to give off that "Southern charm" that they were so famous for. As far as Janine was concerned, it was working. She wished she could find people this helpful elsewhere in the world, but ultimately, she figured she would end up despising them because they were better than her.

Large and elaborate crystal chandeliers shone yellow light down in the hall, which seemed almost golden. In the center of the room was a vault door with the number of the first new vault painted on it: 101. Part of Janine wondered what would become of the centerpiece when the party was over. As she had expected, every respectable figurehead from every major technological faction in the Southern half of the US was present. Janine hadn't seen Brian yet, but she was still on the lookout.

Ellen was over at the punchbowl talking to a cute young waiter, apparently forgetting for the evening that she was married. Janine scowled, then her scowl turned into a look of ghoulish satisfaction. _Marriage is only convenient when you want it to be_, she thought. _Just more proof that it's a waste of time._

Someone touched her elbow, and she jumped. Regaining her composure, she turned to see Brian smiling benignly and someone she didn't know, an elderly woman with thick horn-rimmed glasses and the air of a know-it-all. A scientist.

"Good evening, Janine, was it?" said Brian. Something in the smile he had on tonight was significantly less attractive than his embarrassed smirk. "You work for Vault-Tec, I hear? Your personal assistant told me, I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," Janine lied, faking a smile. She didn't know what Brian wanted but she was a good enough saleswoman to see that he was up to no good. "Brian, right? Are you enjoying the gala?"

"In _my_ day, gala functions were not so European," interjected the scientist rudely.

"'In_ my_ day,'" mocked Janine. "Do you realize how old you sound when you say that?"

"With age comes wisdom and experience," said the scientist, putting her nose in the air.

"You must be younger than you look then," remarked Janine, who instantly turned her attention back to Brian. A hurt look came over the scientist's face, and you might as well have stuck a miniature raincloud above her head for all the grump she was putting on. "Who's your friend, Brian? Aren't you even going to introduce us?"

"Oh, yes, I apologize," he said, still smiling. "Janine Smithers, Dr. Moira Brown. She's an expert on post apocalyptic societies and has many wonderful and interesting theories about what life will be like after the bombs drop."

"Pleased to meet you," said Janine to Dr. Brown with too much enthusiasm. She turned back to Brian. "So what?"

"So," interrupted Dr. Brown again, "I am just here to inform you that the vaults will not save anyone from the fallout of a nuclear attack, even one or two hundred years from now."

Janine was a little dumbfounded. She didn't quite understand why Brian was attacking her this way, much less what this fraud of a scientist wanted from her.

"So what?" she repeated.

The scientist didn't quite know how to react to that answer, and Janine didn't think it was all too professional for a Vault-Tec representative. She was supposed to be selling the vaults and she practically just admitted that they were useless. Brian still smiled, which annoyed Janine even more. She glared at him.

"What is this about, Brian?" she asked.

"It's about the future of RobCo's investment in Vault-Tec," he said. "I have a lot of money riding on RobCo and if Vault-Tec ends up as a failure, or if there is even the suspicion that Vault-Tec could be a failure, it's going to cost me a lot of money."

"The Vault-Tec vaults, upon careful review, seem far too small to accommodate an appropriate number of citizens," ventured Dr. Brown. Her voice was raising a little, although it was unclear as to whether it was a ruse to get peoples' attentions or whether her hackles were actually up. After her rude commentary, Janine couldn't be sure.

"The Vault-Tec vaults, upon review of the United States Government, are the best and most capable means of preserving the cream of the crop of American society," Janine replied coolly.

"Yes, by selling out spots to the highest bidder!" Dr. Brown said. People were looking now.

Janine looked out of the corner of her eyes and saw the crowd begin to turn to her. She decided to hold on to her secret weapon, because she hated using it. She'd only used it once when a seminar at a college had turned entirely against her, and it was terribly effective.

"Without the financial backing of first the upper- and upper-middle-class citizens, Vault-Tec will be unable to construct vaults for the rest of the population," said Janine. She was purely in speculation now, she had no numbers to back up her statement. But it sounded damn good.

"You are profiteering based upon the fears of others," said Dr. Brown icily. "It is barbaric and disgraceful, and you have as much to gain from the continuation of this war as the people would have to gain if it ended."

Janine wasn't entirely sure she understood that statement, and from the look on Dr. Brown's face it appeared she may have stumbled her words. Nevertheless it sounded true enough given the current argument. Time for her secret weapon, she decided.

"Are you a communist, Dr. Brown?" asked Janine, pretending to be honestly shocked. There was a quiet gasp from the crowd. Janine had to resist a smile because her plan was working like a Hollywood movie.

"Of course not," said Dr. Brown, her eyes now wild and darting around. "I just think we need to think about all of the people in this great nation, not just the rich ones."

Wrong answer. She was surrounded by the richest individuals below the Mason Dixon line, and they just did not agree with what she said. Whispers circulated through the crowd, and Janine became aware that the music had stopped in the background. Most of the whispers were concerned with Dr. Brown's being a communist. It was good.

"When will you build more vaults then?" asked Dr. Brown angrily. She clearly got the crowd's attitude and decided that backing down was the wrong way to go. Janine would have done differently. "Or is Vault-Tec working with the Chinese to put all of the rich in the vaults so that the poor can be more easily subjugated by their regime?"

Janine's jaw dropped. Somewhere else in the room, Ellen's had too. Even Brian looked taken aback. Nobody had seen this option before. The whispers began again, but changed in subject. Janine's eyes flickered around the crowd looking for someone to bail her out. Her gaze met Brian's, which was only slightly sympathetic. He clearly hadn't wanted to put that possibility on Vault-Tec, as it could also reflect badly on RobCo.

"Now, now," said Brian, partly to the crowd and partly to Dr. Brown. "I've known Pip Larson for many years. We're good friends, and he's _no_ communist, and he would have nothing at all to gain from associating with the Chinese."

"Then why are the Vault-Tec vaults so inadequate?" Dr. Brown shouted, pointing a finger at Janine. Janine felt as though the attack on her company was utterly uncalled for, especially through her. The crowd erupted in shock and electric conversation, several prospective buyers trying to tell Janine they didn't want in on her contract anymore.

Brian looked at Janine.

"What can we do?" she asked him quietly, behind the din of the crowd, as though she didn't want him to hear her ask for help.

"You and I are leaving," he said just as levelly. "We need to talk."

And, without telling Ellen where they were going, Brian and Janine left the remnants of the gala, guests ignoring them as they buzzed excitedly about Vault-Tec and its possible shortcomings. False rumors were already starting to spread about sabotaged vaults and prison vaults for undesirable citizens. Janine wanted to tell them it was wrong, that it was all just a lie, that Vault-Tec was good and wholesome (even though she knew it wasn't) and she wanted the job security she had felt at the beginning of the party.

A fiery anger burned in the back of her mind at Brian, who had brought this upon her, and she wrenched her arm out of his as they approached his blue Corvega.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"What's the matter is that you set me up!" she shouted. "You set me up! You set Vault-Tec up! Why?"

"Calm down," said Brian. "I never intended for things to get so out of control."

"The problem is that you intended for bad things to happen!" Janine pointed out. "Now the word will spread that Vault-Tec is unpatriotic and thousands of vault-dwellers will tear up their contracts. That's an awful move for the CEO of RobCo. You own half the technology that goes in those damn vaults! And why didn't you tell me who you were back in that café in DC?"

"Telling girls I'm a multi-millionaire isn't my style," said Brian.

"Couldn't hurt your cause," said Janine.

"I gave you my business card!" Brian continued, "RobCo will just have to invest deeper into Vault-Tec's enterprises. And I believe that purchasing an ad campaign or five might be in order. But you'll need something good to get the love of the people again."

"If only we could do something like the museum exhibit again," Janine said, dejected. She pulled a Vault-Tec pamphlet out of her purse and looked at the cartoon character on the cover, a simulation of her boss, Pip Larson. They called their signature vault-dweller the Pip Boy, which is where RobCo had developed the idea of using the character on their portable computers. Pip Boys were going to be standard issue throughout the vault system. The older vaults had already been equipped with the latest Pip Boy 2000's, and rumor was that the new vaults would get the next model in line.

She sighed and put the pamphlet back into her purse. There had to be another way to sell that image - the Pip Boy image - to the people. Families everywhere had responded to the "Joe Citizen" generic figure, to the point where some of the Vault-Tec heavy laborers decided it would be the cool thing to get Pip Boy tattoos, although they were often less appropriate for younger audiences than the standard drawings.

Without thinking, Janine opened the door of the Corvega and sat down. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement and she looked up to see a little hula dancer dancing on the dash. Something in her mind connected.

"I just came up with something brilliant," she said as Brian entered the car.


	5. Chapter 5 May 2076

Chapter Five. 2076.

Ellen sat at the back of the conference room, hitting the button that changed slides on the projector. She was very bored, having heard the pitch almost a hundred times in a hundred different forms so that Janine could get it right before proposing it to her superior. From there it had been approved and revised (several hundred more times) and now she was presenting in front of the company president, Pip Larson, himself.

Ellen looked at her Pip Boy and verified that the meeting still had about ten minutes left before it started. Her projector clearly worked, so she cycled it back through to the first slide. Of course Janine wouldn't arrive until thirty seconds into the meeting - the timing of which she decided was just dramatic enough for her not to seem late. Though her presentation was quite ostentatious for her immediate superior, her presentation had grown quite a bit in eccentricity since then as Janine had gained momentum with the idea.

A young man with mousy brown hair and thin glasses walked into the room with a briefcase, setting on the conference room table. He pretended not to notice Ellen for a moment, then turned to her and proffered his hand.

"I'm Mr. Fingers," he said. "Mr. Larson's personal assistant and secretary."

Ellen took his hand and let go of it in that way she felt was appropriate for women to do.

"Mrs. West," she said. "Miss Smithers' personal assistant and secretary."

He went back to his briefcase where he began taking out some papers to work on. A moment passed, and Ellen looked lazily at him.

"Mr. Fingers?" she asked.

"Don't ask," Fingers said. "Mr. Larson goes through… strange phases where he fancies different names for people that are close to him. I tried to take a mug from him to refill it with coffee, so now he calls me Mr. Fingers. I've tried to introduce myself as otherwise but he just threatens my job."

"Sounds like a pleasant fellow," Ellen said. She had never heard that Pip Larson was so eccentric. It must be something related to his innate reclusiveness. She wondered if it would help that Janine's presentation was eccentric in its own right, and decided things would probably work out for the best. So far as anyone knew, Pip Larson was unaware that it was Janine herself at the party in Atlanta, and Ellen had paid the reporter at the party a good deal of money to forget exactly which Vault-Tec salesperson it had been. The actual news reported that the Vault-Tec employee was a male in his late thirties with a bad bald spot, whose name was supposed to be Alan Potter.

After a moment, Janine's supervisor, Mr. Crow, walked into the room and had a seat at table across from Mr. Fingers. He was a portly man who smelled like freshly smoked cigars and had a squint that hinted that he needed glasses but refused to get them. He was always wearing a gray suit, although the color of his tie varied by the day, and they were always just solid colors. Today his tie was purple.

He noted Ellen's presence with a nod and a grunt, and completely failed to introduce himself to Mr. Fingers.

"Excuse me, Mrs. West," said Mr. Fingers as he looked at his watch. "Where is Miss Smithers? The meeting is going to begin soon."

"Miss Smithers is running a little late," said Ellen, as she had been forced to rehearse several times the previous evening. "She should be coming up the elevator any moment."

"Ah," said Mr. Fingers, closing his briefcase as though that meant the meeting were over. "Mr. Larson is always precisely twenty-five seconds late. He insists that it is perfect dramatic timing without seeming like he is late to the meeting."

Ellen had to hold back a laugh. She had a strong feeling that Janine and Pip Larson would get along very well, though she also wondered if they were somehow related. Either way, the five second gap should give Janine just enough headway to almost make the entrance she wanted to.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," said Ellen, smiling. But Mr. Fingers was not so cheery.

"It'd better be something fantastic," Mr. Fingers said tersely. "Mr. Larson has a lot of things to do, including move the company headquarters to Washington D.C."

"We're moving?" asked Mr. Crow, shocked. His voice was higher pitched than one would expect of his size, but it was the first thing he'd actually said while sitting in the room.

"Yes, we already have a building that is mostly set up," Mr. Fingers informed them. "The information is, of course, secret until the press release tomorrow morning. You understand?"

"Of course," said Mr. Crow. Mr. Fingers shot Ellen a glare.

"Naturally," Ellen said. She had nothing to gain from telling anyone, except perhaps Chris, and that could wait until tomorrow if it had to.

"So when will the staff be moving to the new headquarters?" asked Crow.

"As I understand it the move will begin next week," said Mr. Fingers.

"That's awfully soon," remarked Ellen. "What about peoples' families?"

Crow seemed to be sharing the same sentiment.

"People will be given sufficient time to move their families," Fingers replied. "And do not worry about paying for a house, because Vault-Tec will be purchasing housing for all of its employees."

Crow obviously had more questions, but at that point Brian Long walked into the room.

"I'm not late, am I?" he asked.

"Not at all," said Ellen. "The festivities shouldn't start for another minute and thirty seconds yet."

"So exact," said Brian, taking a seat. "I like that."

After having sat down, Brian introduced himself to Mr. Crow and Mr. Fingers, which was just enough time to let Pip Larson enter the room. Pip was tall and hearty, with wavy blond hair that sat on the top of his head. He was clean shaven and smartly dressed, but his face was so very average that it wouldn't stick out of any crowd.

Pip spotted Brian first, and greeted him heartily. They were about to start talking business when Janine, looking purposeful, entered the room and moved to the head of the table. Ellen almost missed her cue.

"The time has come," Janine said, not even waiting for Pip to take his seat, "For us to start offering incentives to the buyers. Having space in a Vault-Tec vault was fashionable not two weeks ago. But why did that change?"

A momentary pause. Pip had his arms crossed, and was concentrating of Janine intensely.

"The incident in Atlanta," Janine answered herself. "People grew scared of Vault-Tec. But they don't need to be scared! That's why we have the Pip Boy!"

Ellen's second cue - she hit the button and the cartoon Pip showed up on the screen.

"But the Pip Boy is only viewable on posters on walls and in Vault-Tec issued manuals that belong to buyers," Janine continued. "We need to put the Pip Boy into peoples' homes, en masse."

"But isn't that what the Pip Boy 2000 does?" interjected Brian. It was all perfectly planned.

"The Pip Boy 2000 appeals to adults, specifically ones that are business-oriented," Janine said. "We need to appeal to the American Family. We need to remind them that the death of the American topsoil doesn't mean the death of the American Dream! And Pip Boy is how we can do that!"

She slammed a short plastic figure onto the conference room table, a likeness of the Pip Boy on the slide behind her, with an enlarged head that wobbled around on its neck.

"Mr. Larson, I present to you the Pip Boy Bobble head!" Janine announced proudly.

A long moment of silence stretched on as Janine waited for Pip's response. He was still staring fixedly at her, waiting for the presentation to continue. Somewhat off put, Janine cleared her throat and straightened her blazer.

"Next slide please," she said curtly. Ellen flicked the switch, and a drawing of a happy family appeared on the screen. The father and mother figures were smiling down on their kids, who each hold a Pip Boy Bobble head doll. A slogan over their heads denoted the father figure's thoughts, "I'm glad I bought Vault-Tec!"

"The Pip Boy Bobble will be sold in stores across the nation, to anyone who wants to buy them," Janine continued. "Exclusive bobble head toys will be given to buyers. It's an instant fad. We already have an advertisement campaign lined up and everything, Hollywood will do wonders with it."

Another moment of silence.

"I suppose," said Pip slowly. "That this makes up for your blunder in Atlanta."

Janine looked shocked. She looked at Brian, who shrugged and grinned sheepishly. She scowled at him, but then smiled back at Pip.

"So you like it?" she asked.

"We don't really need it anymore," Pip said. "After our buyout of RobCo, we have plenty of money, and to screw with the people we lost. The threat of the bombs is real enough to bring people into our vaults. What we need is a bigger scare than us, not a toy for people."

"I'll cancel the ad campaign right away, Sir," Janine said, dejected. She moved to the door.

"Don't," said Pip suddenly. "Produce the toys and sell them, but forget the special edition toys for buyers. And run a campaign about the imminent threat of nuclear attack to go with it. I want people to fear the Chinese, and I want them to understand that Vault-Tec is their last hope: their ONLY hope. I have goals to meet."

Pip said nothing else, and left. Mr. Fingers stood, picking up his briefcase.

"We will be in contact with you, Miss Smithers," said Mr. Fingers. "Thank you for that… inspiring presentation."

"Good afternoon," Janine said, and Mr. Fingers left.


	6. Chapter 6 September 2076

**Chapter Six. 2076.**

Ellen tapped her fingers impatiently on the arm rest of her seat. The passenger plane was relatively cramped, but it was well lit and the seats were at least comfortable. She was waiting impatiently for the stairs to be rolled up to the door of the plane so that the passengers could be filed off and she could meet Chris on the runway where he was likely to be waiting for her.

She glanced out the window into the early morning California light, and had to squint. Her work with Janine seemed to have kept her indoors more than anything else and so exposure to the sun was unusual to her. Well not any more, she thought, I'm in sunny California. She could see a small crowd of people waiting to greet passengers, but couldn't make out if Chris was among them. The staircase was being rolled up to the door.

Ellen's work over the past four months had been intense, filling out forms and booking studios in New York and helping Janine move her office from Manhattan to Washington D.C. Off the record, Janine had let Ellen keep the Pip Boy she was given when she left Vault-Tec to return to her husband. The chromium surface had faded and looked dull. No doubt it was all the use she had gotten out of it organizing events for Janine.

Janine had promised to come visit once things had gotten settled. Ellen hoped so, because she didn't have any friends in California yet. Not that she imagined it would be difficult. Especially when she met some of the other women who were going to live in the vault with her. She supposed that even if she didn't actually live in the vault, the common sharing of vaultspace was tantamount to being in some secret community which could enjoy each others' company before they actually lived together.

Finally the door was open, and Ellen was first in line to hop off of the plane and down onto the stairs. As she reached the bottom steps, Chris broke away from the crowd and called to her. She grabbed her baggage from the carrier and ran over to him.

"Ellen!" he cried, and wrapped his arms around her. She beamed affection, though could not return the hug with her hands full. He let her go and put hit himself on the forehead. "I'm sorry, Honey, let me get those bags for you!"

"Thank you, Chris," she said, and he relinquished her of her baggage. "Did you bring the letter?"

"I figured we could look at it when we got to the car," he said, and they began their trek to his vehicle.

"That's okay," she said. "I already know that Vault-Tec only sends acceptance letters. Do you know anyone else who has space in the vault?"

"Well I know Tom Lakin," he said. They reached the car and he began loading the baggage into its massive trunk. "He got his letter shortly after we got ours."

"Oh," she said. "What's Mr. Lakin's wife like?"

"I wouldn't know," said Chris, shutting the trunk. "He's not married yet."

"I see," said Ellen, a little bit sad. "Do you know anyone else in the vault yet?"

"Not yet," said Chris. "But we're supposed to have an open house party next October. During the open house we will be spending a week in the vault to get the idea of vault life."

"How do you know about that?" asked Ellen. She opened her door, but didn't get in yet.

"I've talked about it with Tom," said Chris, and he got in the driver's seat. "I became good friends with Tom while you've been gone. I'm the one who convinced him to get space in the vault."

Ellen got in the car, and they pulled away from the airport to go home.

* * *

Janine took another drink of her margarita and played absently with the napkin on the table in front of her. She looked into Brian's eyes, which seemed warmer and friendly tonight than they had previously. It was probably the alcohol. This was her third margarita, and she started to suspect that she might be a little toasted.

That was alright with her because he seemed toasted, too, having had several more drinks than she had. Brian had never struck Janine as such a heavy drinker, but he evidently couldn't stop once he started. She liked that he had that weakness. It made him seem less superior to her, and therefore someone she could get on with.

"I'm getting drunk," he said bluntly.

"I can see that," remarked Janine around her straw. She stopped playing with her napkin and began tapping her long fingernails on the table.

"No, no," he said, moving his hands around way more than he needed to. "I'm getting drunk because I want to ask you something."

"I'll bet you do," she said. She took a drunken moment to think about what he was going to say, because it was very clear where he was going with it. She figured that one night of drunken sex with this man, who was becoming increasingly attractive, might be fun.

"I want to have," and he stopped, looking around conspiratorially, and whispered loudly, "sex with you."

"I know," she said. "I think we should wait until we get back to your place, though. The barkeep might not like us getting sexy on this table."

"You're absolutely right," said Brian as he took out his wallet. He put down far more than the bill could possibly have been and stepped over to where Janine was sitting to offer her assistance in standing up.

"You think I'm so drunk," she said as she took his hand, "that I can't even get up on my own?"

"No," he said. "But I need your support to make it out to the car."

"Let me drive," she said. "I'm less hammered than you are."

"I don't want you to think I'm an alcoholic," said Brian as they made their way towards the exit.

"You're about twelve Jaeger bombs too late for that one," she said and smiled broadly. She laughed. She was really funny, she realized. Brian chuckled too.

"I like the way you laugh," he said. "You should laugh more often. I'll tell you what, just skip getting all the way back to my place. It will take too long. We should do it in the back seat of my car."  
"No," said Janine, whose standards were not quite that low. "I'll get you home, and you'll get off tonight. Don't worry, just keep it up for a little while longer."

"You're right," Brian said. "Screw the car. Let's just go in that alley over there."

"Fuck you!" Janine said and dropped away from Brian, taking his support away. He fell over. "What kind of girl do you think I am? I don't just fuck anywhere, you know! Just because I'm in sales doesn't mean I'm a slut! I have a very honorable reputation!"

Brian was busy rubbing his butt where he had landed. He seemed confused.

"Janine, sorry," he said. He looked so helpless on the ground, like a lost puppy. "I didn't mean to offend you. You're just really hot and I am getting impatient."

"Excuses are like assholes," Janine said, refusing to help him up. "Everyone has them, and they stink."

He looked hurt, and a little angry. "You can be a real bitch if you want to."

"I can be whatever I wanna do!" she shouted at him, and went to his car. "And I don't have your car keys yet!"

Brian got up shakily and fumbled the keys out of his pocket. As he approached, she could smell the alcohol on him. His being close was exciting her for some reason. She grabbed him and began to kiss him. Though at first confused, he kissed back, and they held a long and drunken kiss there beside his car.

"Let's go back to my place," Brian said after they finally separated. "I want to show you how much you mean to me."

"You and your lines," she said. "It's always a line with you. Where did you learn so many lines?"

"From my father, I think," Brian replied and they entered the car.

The blue Corvega drove out of the bar's parking lot and into the night. When it finally reached its destination, Janine and Brian enjoyed a night of great sex.

The next morning, all they knew was that they were naked and had monstrous headaches.


End file.
